


Lessons in How to Preen Your Bird

by galoots



Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Family Bonding, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, References to Depression, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 15:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18013886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galoots/pseuds/galoots
Summary: Scrooge notices that Donald isn't looking quite like himself these days.





	Lessons in How to Preen Your Bird

“Laddie, I’ve noticed you’ve been looking a bit, er, scruffier these days.”

            Shit. Did he know? Donald thought he hid it well enough. The occasional depressive episode would come and go often enough that he’d become skilled in the art of cloaking. He didn’t want to add another stressor to his nephews’ lives; his constant unemployment and dogged financial troubles already weighed on them so heavily. Kids shouldn’t have to bear the weight of their guardian’s mistakes especially not his boys. God how he prayed they didn’t inherit the Duck family’s genetic predisposition towards mental illness, but kids were perceptive, and so, it seems, was his uncle.

            Donald had really, really tried, but the effort to repair, upkeep, and maintain was usually the first to go when his mood dipped. It felt so momentous, so pointless, to expend that wealth of effort on a shower when it took all his energy to will himself through another day. It was clear that he had fucked up, however, if even Scrooge took notice of his dilapidated state.

            Now he would have to brace himself for the barrage of probing questions that were sure to follow. Force a smile, deflect, and suffer through them. I can’t do this—not today. To Donald’s surprise, he felt Scrooge take his hand with an authoritative, yet gentle, command: “That won’t do. Follow me.”

            Scrooge led his nephew up to his private study where he sat him down in the room’s comfiest chair. Donald glanced around the familiar room as he heard Scrooge softly humming behind him. He wasn’t really going to… no, he was much too old for his uncle to pay him this kind of attention. He’d never even seen Scrooge do this with their still-young nephews for Christ’s sake! The sudden feeling of Scrooge’s beak prying apart the matted feathers on his head struck him with a wave of nostalgia so strong he could barely choke back a sob. Donald focused on taking deep, regulated breaths—it was bad enough his uncle had thought this was necessary—he couldn’t bear the embarrassment of letting Scrooge see him cry like a wee bairn. Once he’d wrangled his unruly emotions enough, he addressed his uncle: “You really don’t need to do this, Scrooge. I’m not a duckling anymore.”

            “Hm,” Scrooge smoothed the feathers at the nape of Donald’s neck, “That’s true, you’re not. But you’ll always be my duckling.”

            Donald couldn’t believe his fucking ears. Did Scrooge really just say that? His Scrooge? The cold, calculating business man, the world-famous adventurer, the man he hadn’t spoken to in ten years? Yet, Donald didn’t want to question it nor waste his time analyzing Scrooge’s words and actions. For once, he wanted to take the unconditional love and affection of another’s for granted. He wanted so badly to believe he deserved it, so he said nothing and let himself fall into this rare moment of relaxation. His mind drifted back to simpler times when his uncle was his whole world. A time when he believed Scrooge could protect him from anything. When Scrooge loved him more than life itself.

            The whole thing made Donald feel foolish. It was so childish to allow himself to melt like a puddle of goo into his uncle’s awaiting arms at the smallest sign of affection. But it was so comforting, to let someone take care of him like this. Donald had to grow up quickly after that fateful day adopting the triplets was an easy decision, but that did not mean it wasn’t a fraught one. He could not afford to let his weaknesses consume him. The boys needed a pillar of strength to hold on to, to trust in, like Scrooge had once been for him. Except this time, he swore, no one would be let down.

            Yet, here he was. In his uncle’s arms as if the gulf of time and distance had never separated them at all. Maybe it was true that you can never really return home, but maybe, in the right circumstances, the ache of coming home once again could be soothed and the loneliness gently rocked.

            “There.” Scrooge declared while he finished straightening the last few feathers. The old man walked around to face Donald and get a proper look at him. He grasped his nephew’s shoulders confidently, “You look so much like your mother these days. You’ve got her exact chin.”

            Donald looked up and smiled at his uncle who gazed fondly back at him. “Thanks, Unkie.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry Donald will be fine. He goes to therapy and takes antidepressants. I wanted to pull from my own previous major depressive episode to make this hit a bit harder. Is it manipulative? Sure, but that’s how stories are told. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> I imagine that Donald doesn’t really address Scrooge as Uncle very much even after they reconnect. He start calling him Uncle/Unkie again when he’d regained his trust.


End file.
